


Your Fading Fire

by Luzula



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Episode Tag, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:28:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luzula/pseuds/Luzula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser gets on the train. It's Victoria who has second thoughts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Your Fading Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Deputychairman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deputychairman/gifts).



> Happy holidays, Deputychairman! I hope you enjoy this. : )
> 
> Thanks to Seascribe for beta-reading and reassurance, and to darlas_mom for pushing me to improve it. Heh, and obviously the title is a Gerard Manley Hopkins quote.

Ben grabbed her outstretched hand, and she braced herself with the other one and pulled him onto the train with desperate strength. 

She'd done it. They'd done it. Victoria grinned at him, couldn't seem to stop, and he hugged her tight. Then they were kissing, the motion of the train as it pulled out from the station making their teeth click together and their bodies shake. Or maybe that last was just the triumph and adrenaline. 

She'd lost the diamonds and most of the money, but Victoria didn't care. She still had a bit tucked away, and what's more, she had Ben. That's what she'd come to Chicago for, after all. 

He looked stunned, like a man whose life had given way beneath him and he hadn't quite realized it yet. Quick, catch him when he's falling. She turned his head towards her, stroked his cheek. Looked into those blue eyes. 

"Ben," she said, making her voice low and intimate. "You came with me." 

He wet his lips. "Yes," he said. 

Then they were kissing again, like they couldn't get enough of it. Victoria pushed up against him, feeling his hard-on, then thought briefly of the train restroom, but no. She wasn't that desperate. With a little huff of frustration, she pulled back. 

"We'll get off soon, get a motel room," she said. 

"Yes," he said, then took a deep breath, gathering himself together. 

Victoria felt an irrational stab of fear when she saw it. She'd thought, somehow, that once she got him to go with her, then she'd have him. Was that true, though? He had nothing to go back to, that's what she'd told herself, but...

One step at a time. She squeezed his hand, and they made their way to a pair of seats and sat down. How mundane they looked, the people around them, just on their way from one place to another, bored, staring out the window, or dozing with their cheeks pressed against the glass. Their hearts didn't hammer in their chests, wondering if they'd gotten away clean. 

Neither of them said much. How could they talk about the important things, in public? Instead, they looked at each other, little glances of question and reassurance, little presses of the hands. The landscape slid by outside, the power lines hypnotically passing by. But all she really looked at was him, quick little sideways looks to study his face. Had he changed his mind? If he had, what would she do? No, surely he couldn't. He'd end up in jail and he knew it. 

Victoria turned her mind instead to the problem of avoiding capture. She hadn't planned for that damned partner of Ben's to come after them. Well, now she'd have to plan for it. 

She leaned in to whisper: "I think we need to jump. When the train's slowing down at the first station." 

She wondered if he'd balk at that. And she thought she did see a momentary tightening of his lips. Then he nodded, decisive. "Well, we're on the run from the law now, after all." 

But in fact, when the time came to jump he took to it like it he'd done it a hundred times before. Victoria jumped, stumbled, fell, rolled. She got up. He was there beside her, grinning wide. She was sure she'd gotten some bruises, but she didn't care. 

"Come on," he said, panting, and they got out of sight, lost themselves in the streets. She wondered if there were police at the station. Well, she wasn't going to stay to check. 

"Hungry?" Ben asked, still with a bit of that wild excitement in his eyes. 

"Is that innuendo?" she asked, smiling at him. 

He licked his lip. "Ah, no. Not this time, at least." He took her hand, squeezed it. "I'm actually hungry; are you?" 

She was, now that she stopped to think about it. They stopped at a diner, got themselves some burgers and fries and sat down in a corner. 

"You were remarkably good at that," she murmured, licking the salt and fat off her fingers. 

"Well, it seems that the skills of a law enforcement officer also come in good stead for a criminal." His mouth twisted. He looked like he was coming down from that adrenaline high, and there was that sliver of doubt in her heart again. 

She was caught between wanting to soothe him, and wanting to provoke him, the way you couldn't help rubbing at a sore spot. Ready for a life of crime, Ben? Ready to run from the law everywhere we go? 

She bit her lip and did neither. "I can imagine." 

He glanced at her, took another bite of his burger. Victoria longed suddenly for the days they'd spent cocooned in his apartment, before he knew...well, everything. She'd been working it, sure, pretending and planning, but at the same time he'd been so open, so happy. He'd loved her with no reservations. He probably loved her still, but for how long? He'd come with her, yes, but...

"Victoria?" he said. He was leaning towards her, his voice low. 

She took his hand, squeezed it hard. "Let's get a room." 

He drew in a breath, squeezed her hand back. "Yes." 

They found a Best Western, checked in. The clerk didn't blink at Victoria's fake ID. Why would he? "Here's your key. Breakfast from seven to ten-thirty. Have a nice day." 

"Thanks," she said, giving him a perfunctory smile. Normal, they were normal. Nothing to remember. 

Ben said nothing as they walked down the carpeted corridor to their nondescript room. Victoria felt an urge to fill the silence, but she said nothing, either. Instead, she reached for him once they were inside the door, pressed him up against the wall and kissed him. The language of the physical--you could lie in that language, too, but she wasn't lying. She wanted him. 

And he wanted her. Somehow she'd never doubted that he would--when she was in prison, going over in her mind what she would do, she'd never thought that maybe he wouldn't care, wouldn't take the lure she'd dangle for him, wouldn't want to make love to her. She felt her mouth twisting, even as he kissed his way down her neck. Making love. Was that what they were doing? Maybe it was. 

Unzipping his jeans and sliding them down, she heard something clank against the floor, and she startled. Handcuffs, even though he was in civilian clothes. She took a deep breath. He did work in civilian clothes sometimes. It wasn't that odd that he'd have them. But still, she flashed back to the feeling of cold steel on her wrists, all those many years ago, and found herself shrinking back. 

He followed her gaze to the bright metal lying on the floor between them. "I wouldn't..." he began, trailing off. 

She smiled, baring her teeth. "Wouldn't cuff me and send me off to jail again?" 

"You think I would? Even after getting on that train with you?" She didn't know what that was, suppressed in his voice. He held out his hands. "Go on, then." 

Victoria stared at the naked wrists he was offering her, at the cuffs on the floor. 

"Do you want to?" he asked, his voice softer. That martyr complex of his, offering it all up for her. Like it would fix everything. Well, if that's what he wanted...

"Yeah," she said, her throat dry. "I want to." 

She cuffed his hands to the bed, stroked her fingers over his pale skin where the cold metal lay against it. He shivered, and she did, too. Here he was, pinned down and where she wanted him. Something within her quieted down when she saw him like that, and she lost a bit of the urgency that had been thrumming within her since they got away. Since before that, if she was honest. 

"Ben," she whispered in his ear. 

"Yes," he breathed. 

"What do you want?" she said, drawing her fingers gently down his exposed chest, watching the goosebumps rise. He was here now. She didn't have to be rough. 

He swallowed, and she watched his vulnerable Adam's apple move. "You. I want you." 

"Mmm," she said, turning her head down and sucking his earlobe into her mouth. She took it between her teeth, bit down a little bit, but not hard. She listened to his breathing, quick and shallow in her ear. 

"Victoria?" he said. "Would you undress?" 

"Of course," she said, sliding off the bed. She didn't make a show of it, but his eyes followed her anyway, as she let her clothes fall to the floor. She climbed back on the bed, let her hand stroke up the curve of his hip, her thumb skirting the dark hair between his legs, deliberately not touching his cock. He turned to the side, seeking more contact, but she pressed him back down with her other hand, then slid her hands up the soft pale skin of his belly. He was so warm, so firm. So real. 

He looked at her face, then turned his eyes further down. Victoria smiled, leaned down to let him suck at her nipple, swinging a leg over to stand on all fours above him. She slid her hands up his arms and tightened them a tiny bit over his wrists, smoothed the skin under the cold steel. His hands lay open and relaxed. 

He made a tiny noise against her breast, and a zing of pleasure shot through her, running from her nipple down to her cunt, and she wanted to just sink down on him. But no, she was going to take her time. 

She'd been afraid at first, before she went to Chicago, that she wouldn't actually want it for herself when the time came to get him into bed. It had been so long since she'd had sex with someone that she'd gone out to a bar beforehand and hooked up with some random guy, just to remember how to do it. And that had...kind of sucked, actually. But the spark had still been there with Ben, and she'd found herself almost painfully turned on that first time. 

He let her nipple slip out of her mouth, met her eyes. "Can I...lick you?" 

She sucked in a breath. "Yes." 

Victoria moved up, settling her legs on either side of him. He raised his head up, straining, and she lowered herself down. The first contact of his tongue on her clit was startling, almost too much, and she jerked away with a gasp. He followed her with his head, sliding his tongue away from her clit, exploring further. 

God. She clenched her hands on the headboard, leaning her forehead against the wall. She looked down at him. His eyes were closed, but as she watched him, they opened and met hers. 

She wondered what he was thinking. Oh, there was still that calculation in her thoughts--did he suspect? did he want her? would he come with her in the end?--and she'd thought that would go away, when he did come with her. Except no, it was still there, even while the pleasure surged through her body. 

She had to concentrate to come, even with his tongue working at her perfectly. After a while, her thighs burned with the effort of keeping her unaccustomed position, and she took her own nipples between her fingers and thumbs, squeezing. Chasing that elusive sensation, she finally found it when she pictured her own hands circling his wrists, holding him down hard. Victoria shuddered through her orgasm, finally drawing away and flopping down awkwardly on the bed beside him, breathing hard. 

She turned her head, and he was looking at her avidly, his lips and chin and nose wet. 

"Please," he whispered. 

Yeah. She wanted to hear him say that. 

Victoria smiled a little, glanced down at his erection, and then mounted him. Her thighs protested a little, but she ignored them, reached down to position herself, and slid down on him in one move. 

"God, yes," he gasped, thrusting up to meet her. She leaned down, let her arms take a little of the weight, and rode him. 

She could've come again, probably, if she'd touched herself, but she didn't quite have the energy for it. Instead, she just enjoyed the sensation of him inside of her, watching it build in his body, that urge to climax. She slowed down a bit, just to frustrate him a little, but he still came soon after, every muscle in his body tensing up as he did, the cuffs on his wrists taut. God, she loved seeing him like this, the look on his face when he came near that point of no return and then tipped over. She loved that she could do that to him. 

Slowly, he relaxed again, his hands falling open. His eyes opened, too, and he smiled a little at her. 

And that dread filled her heart again, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She tried not to show it, just smiled back and slid down beside him, tired and sweaty and sated. She shivered a little and pulled the sheets over them. 

His eyes were closed again now, and his breathing sounded like he was dozing off. Probably she should uncuff him, but she just lay there, stroking his chest a little. 

It couldn't last. It couldn't. She'd blinded him for a while, with sex and with the memory of who they'd both been, once (and she'd threatened him, don't forget that). So he'd come with her. But it wouldn't last. That unyielding nature of his would come out again and he'd leave her, never mind that he'd wreck his own life in the process. In anyone else, she could believe that self-interest would win over, but with him? No. And then where would she be? She had to free herself from him some time, needed to. 

As quietly as she could, she slipped from the bed. He stirred a little, but she shushed him, stroked his hair, and he sighed and settled down again. 

Victoria gathered up her clothes from the floor and put them on. Then she took her bag, and looked at him for a long while, at the openness in his face while he slept, his relaxed hands, still in the cuffs. 

She shook her head at herself. Couldn't tear herself away, could she? Well, she had to. It's not like it was love or anything. She'd had her revenge, and that was what she'd been after, wasn't it? So why were there tears running down her cheeks? 

Right. She turned, opened the door, stepped through, and it snicked quietly shut behind her. 

She left the motel, free and alone.


End file.
